The Names of Kings
by Churro-Dragon
Summary: While trying to help little America decide on a human name, Arthur ends up explaining the concept of monarchy as well as relating the story of one of England's great early rulers. One shot, sort of prequel to "Irreversible"


"Hey, Mr. England! Look what I got!"

The boy splashed and flailed about in the shallow creek, blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he clumsily scrambled onto the shore and over to the dry log where England was enjoying a smoke. He was dripping wet and grinning widely, proudly displaying in his tiny hands the smooth pebbles he had retrieved from the creek bed.

"I got 'em! Can we go to the lake now, and make the stones jump over the water like you showed me?"

"Maybe later, if we have time," said England. It was an unusually warm day, and he felt like doing something relaxing for once. Ever since young America had been officially recognized as his charge, he had done nothing but comb through the territories , his newly-adopted younger brother energetically leading the way. The landscape was strikingly beautiful, no doubt about that, but while America seemed to have an endless supply of energy fueling him as he climbed through dense and hilly forests and fields, England needed a rest.

"C'mon, Mr. England, please?"

"You can just call me 'England', you know. Also, you know how to skip stones already, you can go by yourself."

"But it's boring without you! the lake isn't that far away, just over those big rocks over there." The boy pointed at a daunting prehistoric formation of warped stone in the distance.

"No." England took a puff on his pipe, and America sat down in the grass and pouted.

"You don't have a name yet, do you?" England wasn't sure what prompted this question, but he felt the need to mention it.

The boy stopped pouting and looked at him strangely. "Yes, I do!" he said. "You call me lots of things. 'America,' 'New World,' and 'lousy little bugger,' whatever that means. Lots of things"

England chuckled despite himself. "You are a lousy little bugger. But that's not what I meant. I mean, like a name you use when you're around regular people. Humans. Not nations like you and me. For example, I'm England, but when I'm back at my house, people call me Arthur."

"Arrrr-thurrrr." The child rolled the unfamiliar word off his tongue, tasting it thoughtfully. "It sounds nice. I like it," he decided, then added: "Where'd you get it?"

"It's not an uncommon name where I come from." England said, pleased at America's quick approval. "It's also the name of a famous king who features in many of my old legends."

"What's a king?"

"A King is a special man who takes care of everybody in the nation. Everyone has to obey him."

America's eyes grew wide in curiosity, and he scooted closer to his brother.

"How come we don't have one here?"

"We do have a king," said England, "but he lives far away across the sea, back in my home. His name is James. He's your king too, now that you're my little brother."

"Is he a nice person?"

England thought of the last time he had been in the company of King James I, shortly before setting out to colonies again. He remembered a scholarly, quiet man, not inclined towards conflict. "I guess I would say so. I haven't seen him in a long time. We don't–er–spend too much time together. Kings are busy people."

"Oh. Then–where do kings come from?"

"Well, there's a special family, the 'royal family,' so the King's son becomes king after him, and then his son becomes king after him."

America was processing this new information thoughtfully. "Have you had mean kings before?"

"Oh yes, lots. Awful ones."

"What do you do if you have a mean king? Do you still have to listen to him?"

"Of course!" England was surprised at the question. "I mean, you have to! If no one listened to the king, the nation would fall into chaos and destruction! A nation needs a strong leader at the helm." He shuddered, remembering the civil war and Oliver Cromwell's troops marching through the streets of London. "Things go badly if you don't have a good leader."

"But what if you have a bad leader?"

"Well–a bad leader is better than no leader. It's hard, but you have to be tough and work through it. I've had my share of bad kings, but I turned out all right, don't you think?" He smiled back at his brother. "And I've had a lot of good kings as well. I don't remember Arthur–he was before my time–but if the legends are to be believed, he's one of the reasons why I'm here today. And not just kings, I've had queens too–Anne and Mary and good old Queen Bess." He paused at his little outburst, realizing that America was staring at him strangely.

"Oh my god, I'm old." he muttered.

"Yeah, you are," said the boy.

"Oh, shut up. We're getting way off point here, anyway. We were discussing what I should name you, since you haven't got a proper name yet anyway. It's important, you know."

"Hm." America thought for a moment, then said, "Well, I want something that starts with 'A,' like yours! It's my favorite letter of the alphabet!"

"It is a very good letter, indeed. Let's see..." He tried to conjure up a list of names starting with 'A'. "There's Andrew," he suggested. "Good name. Biblical. Not uncommon in these parts."

"No, I don't like that one," said America. "It doesn't feel right."

"Alright then, how about... Archibald?"

The boy scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue. "That one sounds like a smelly cabbage."

"It does not! It's a very respectable name! Well, then, how about Aaron?"

"That doesn't start with an 'A!'"

"Actually, it does. Two 'A's, actually."

"But it sounds like an 'E'! Errrrr-on. It needs to sound like an 'A'!"

England sighed. "When we're done with this naming business, remind me to drill you on your reading skills with that New England Primer they're putting out these days."

Adam, Abel, Arnold, Ashley, Amos, Alexander, Angelo, Aeschylus, Adonis, Apollos, Ajax, and a whole host of names were dismissed for a variety of reasons ranging from the ridiculous to the petty. England was getting quite tired of this game, and his charge was getting bored again.

"There are twenty-five other letters in the alphabet, you know," England said. "You might try giving them a chance."

"No! It has to be 'A!'" America flopped back on the grass.

"Well, I feel like I've completely exhausted the biblical as well as Ancient Greek Canon, so you'll have to come up with your own suggestions now."

"I know!" said America, popping back up again, a wide grin on his face. " What about Kings?"

"What about 'em?"

"Don't you have any more kings whose name start with the letter 'A'?"

It was so obvious, England was almost upset at himself for not considering it earlier. "Well, Arthur is taken, clearly. Let's see–we have Queen Anne, but that won't do...Hm. I suppose guess that leaves us with...Alfred the Great."

The boy sat back up abruptly. "Alfred? What's so great about him?"

"Lots of things. But first let's move somewhere more comfortable, shall we?" He scooped up his little brother off the grass and started to carry him off, despite his giggly protests. "Better appreciate it while you can!" said England. "At the rate you're growing, soon you'll be too big for this sort of stuff." He put America down on a wide stump.

"King Alfred the Great was one of my earliest rulers," he began.

"Did you know him?" America asked.

"A bit," said England. "I was still very young then, so I don't exactly remember everything. While he was king, he helped defend me against Viking invaders, and helped advance education and literacy. I remember he personally tutored me when I was struggling with my reading, which was astounding, considering how busy he must have been dealing with all his other responsibilities."

"Like how you help me when I have trouble with my letters?"

"Yes, sort of like that. Though I must admit, he was much more patient than I was. English back then was much different than it is now, and I had to learn Latin too. Also there were no printing presses."

America's eyes widened. "Then how did you make books?"

"You had to write all the words and draw all the pictures by hand."

"But that would take forever!"

"Indeed," said England. "Books were very expensive, and took a long time to make. And during King Alfred's time, everyone was so busy running around and farming and trying not to get killed by Vikings that they didn't even think of learning to read. But Alfred wanted to change that. He thought that reading was just as important in battle as learning how to fight, so he got lots of people to translate books into English."

The boy looked thoughtful. "But how does reading help you fight?"

"It depends." England swatted away a fly that was buzzing around his ear–it was now high noon, with a clear sky, and much hotter than it had been at the beginning of the day. "When you read, you learn more, and think differently, and you can make better judgements than if you didn't." England saw the quizzical look on America's face, and tried a different approach. "Sometimes, when you're in battle, you don't always have the best soldiers, or the best weapons, and sometimes your enemies are bigger and stronger than you. That can be scary. But that doesn't mean you can't still win. Even if you aren't as strong, you can still be clever and find ways to turn your weaknesses to your advantage."

America was silent for a while, chewing on a piece of grass like a horse and looking pensive. "I still don't really get it." He said finally. "But...I think I like this Alfred person. He sounds like a really good fellow! I mean, he helped you when you were little like how you help me, right?"

"Does this mean you've finally decided on a name?"

The boy nodded his head. "Alfred," he said proudly.

"Well then," said England, standing up straight and extending his hand like a proper gentleman. "A grand pleasure to meet you, young Master Alfred."

America–now Alfred–grabbed England's hand with his own and shook it vigorously.

"You too, Arthur!" he said, and they both laughed. "Now can we go down to the lake? Please?"

England sighed. America, Alfred–there was no use denying this boy.

"Alright, you win," said England finally. "Might as well not let such a lovely day go to waste! But you have to promise me to study hard in your reading and writing exercises when we get home, alright? It's only proper, considering your namesake."

"I know, I know," said Alfred. "I promise!"

_Thanks for reading!_

_-Taylor_


End file.
